Tell Me What You Want Ch. 04

Hector leaned forward, scarcely believing he was about to commit himself to the act. His face hovered about her ballet flats, willing himself to close the gap, to debase himself in front of Bea while his wife watched, wading through the tangle of emotions that sprang up. His best friend, his confidante.

He kissed her feet.

His owner.

Bea stepped around him and he heard her give his wife a kiss on the cheek.

"Nice of you to drop by," she said in a cheery voice.

"Sorry, I know we're a bit late."

"No, don't worry, traffic?"

"No, the traffic was fine, it just took a little more time than I thought it would to get here."

Hector remained frozen to the spot, ignored, his head still bowed where Bea's feet had been, while the women talked over him.

"No issues?" Bea asked.

"Nothing we couldn't fix. Now, I brought some things for you, they're in the car."

"Really? You didn't need to."

He heard Lotte chuckle, replying, "Oh I did. Believe me it's the least I can do. There's groceries, since I figure you're going to be on the job all weekend. Oh, and wine. You might need that."

Bea laughed. It was a lovely, tinkling sound. Hector, bent double still, felt the uncomfortable pressure of his tummy pressing down on his rock-hard cock under his coat as if he was invisible while they chatted above him.

"I might. Depends how much hassle it gives me."

It: not him, it. Hector shuddered, rendered into an inanimate thing with a single word.

"Yeah, about that, it might try. If it all gets too much, I can be round here in half an hour. I'm sure you'll cope though."

Lotte's voice became a little louder, and he realised she was looking down at him now.

"The slave is making a little progress, Bea, as you can see. You just have to keep up the work, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'm looking forward to it."

Bea was looking down at him too, now. He felt like a bug on a pin in a display case, being examined by the woman standing over him. Bea was looking forward to it: Hector grimaced, but shivered with a strange anticipation.

"Anyway, want to come inside?" Bea said.

"Yeah, why not? I've got time."

They brushed past him and he watched two pairs of feet retreating into the house. His wife hadn't ordered him up, and neither had Bea. He felt abandoned, so he remained in his supplicant position, frozen in place in the doorway.

"Get up, bring the boxes in. Come on, we don't have all night," he heard his wife call over her shoulder as she followed her friend into the house.

Hector got to his feet, finding himself alone. The women had gone into the back of the house, forgetting all about him as they chattered between themselves. He went to the car and opened the back.

Lotte had stowed two boxes and a carrier bag. He picked up the carrier bag first, hearing the clink of glass on glass. He opened it up to see wine bottles. Hector checked the labels: a decent collection. He surmised that there would be zero chance of any of it going to him this weekend.

He hauled the bag into the house, making his way to the kitchen. Bea's house was smaller than theirs, older, with two bedrooms, a lounge area and a modest garden out the back. There was a laundry and a toilet built into the back of the garage, accessed through an adjoining door off the hall. It had been all she could manage after the divorce.

Bea and Lotte were talking in the kitchen, neither looking up as he placed the bag on the counter. He turned and went back out again, picking up the smaller of the two boxes. It was fairly light, containing the groceries that Lotte had promised. As he entered the kitchen, the conversation between his wife and her friend stalled.

"Just there, slave," Bea said, pointing at the counter.

The word stung him, but it was because of the tone: imperious, commanding. He set the box down and walked back into the hall. Behind him, the conversation picked up again.

Hector stopped, backtracking until he was within earshot, hovering just outside in the hallway.

"I dunno, it feels so weird," said the first voice, and he recognised it as Bea's.

"What does?" his wife replied.

"So, I'm going to order him around all weekend, make him do whatever I want, like he's not a person?"

"Pretty much. You did it just then, did you see? You were perfect, and he just obeyed you."

"But it's Heck."

"I know, and that's something you need to get past. I've delegated all my rights under the slave contract. You can do anything I can do. Use him in whatever way you want. Make him clean out the kitchen cupboards or scrub the bathroom with a toothbrush."

The was a moment's silence. Hector imagined a look passing between the two women who controlled his fate.

"I trust you, Bea. You can do whatever you like with him."

There was a murmuring conversation next, but he couldn't catch the words, his wife saying something else to her friend.

"But I'm just gonna treat him like a thing?" Bea asked at the end.

"Yes, you are. Believe me, deep down he wants this, despite all the looks and the grunts. Look, I'm doing this for you too."

"In what way is this for me?"

"Like we talked about. You let Brent push you around. He took full control of your marriage and look where it got you. Next time, do what I'm doing, take control. You make the decisions in your relationship, not whatever man you find. Be a strong woman, take the lead. I'm lending Heck to you as a dry run. Believe me, once you have a man completely under your thumb, there's no going back. It's such a rush."

Hector waited nervously for Bea's reaction. Lotte had basically told Bea that her marriage had broken down because she hadn't been strong enough to take charge. Hector cringed: it was an awful thing to say to her best friend. Hector knew just how wide of the mark Lotte's comments were, having talked at length with Bea, had her tear-stained face buried in his shoulder in the break room one day, sobbing in his arms. Being a strong woman in the face of Brent's intransigence would have had no effect other than the demise of her marriage just a little bit sooner.

"What if I go too far?" Bea asked. "What if I hurt him somehow?"

"You won't, I know you. If anything, you won't go far enough. You'll need to push yourself, just remember that he's a thing for your use. If you go too far, I gave him a safeword. Rainbow. I know you care about him, but he'll let you know if it's too much. See? I've covered everything, you're good to go."

"I guess."

Hector heard a hiss of breath from his wife, then her tone changed, becoming more commanding, "He's no longer Heck, Bea. He's just a thing."

"I know. It's just so new."

"It's not. He's been just a thing for a long time, he just didn't realise it until I told him."

Hector heard footsteps and he hurried away from the door, back outside to pick up the last box. As he turned back to the house, his wife was standing there with a disapproving look on her face. Bea was just behind her.

"It needs to learn how to follow commands in a timely manner, as shown here. It should have finished this already," Lotte told her friend.

She passed him, checking the car and closing the doors, ignoring Hector standing next to her with the box in his hands. It was heavy. He didn't want to think about what was in it.

"I'll see you Monday morning. Could you make sure it's clean when I pick it up?" she called out as she opened the car door.

Hector waited for his wife to acknowledge his presence, maybe wish him well for the weekend. Instead, he gaped at the back of her head as she slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. End of conversation, he thought, not even a goodbye. His Mistress had given him away without even a backwards look, and he quailed deliciously at being so easily abandoned by the woman he'd married. The engine started and she drove away. Hector's eyes followed the receding car down the street.

"Better get that box inside."

Hector turned, startled from his reverie by Bea's words.

"Where's the box going?" he asked.

He realised too late that Bea was now his wife's delegate, and he should have taken a more dutiful tone to his new owner. He didn't know where he stood with her. Bea had all the power, that much he knew, but his relationship with the pretty, bubbly woman in front of him had always been vastly different to the one he had with his wife. He didn't know how to navigate this, and was left with the uneasy feeling he'd messed up from the very first words.

"Just put it in the garage, Heck."

She went back inside, and he followed her. She'd used his name, so could he use hers? Were they on familiar terms on the moment, rather than deferential? Bea led him through the adjoining door into the garage space. Hector decided to try an experiment.

"Where do you want me to put it, Bea?"

"Just on the shelving."

She hadn't admonished him. He did what he was told, then stopped, waiting for his next command. Bea hesitated, scanning the empty garage. The roller door was closed. Aside from the rack of steel shelving on one wall, the space was bare. She pointed to a storage tub on one of the shelves, next to an old toolbox that Hector knew used to be Brent's.

Bea had told him the story about the toolbox. It had been Brent's parting shot, presenting it to her with a smug grin and telling her she could keep it because from this point, she'd have to learn how to change her own fucking lightbulbs.

"There's a mat in the tub. Get it out."

"Uh, okay."

Hector pulled the storage tub off the shelf and popped it open. There was a camping mattress folded up tightly inside, as well as a few other bits of camping gear. He pulled it out and unfurled it, holding it up to her.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"Just set it up on the floor."

Hector's eyes widened.

"Seriously, Bea?"

"Yes."

Bea folded her arms, watching him as Hector stared at her in disbelief.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I, uh, I kinda assumed I'd be sleeping in the guest bedroom."

"No, Heck, The guest bedroom's for guests. The garage is where you keep things."

Hector gripped the camping mattress tightly.

"I thought we were going to spend a weekend... uh...."

"Hanging out? Is that why you thought Lotte brought you over here? Didn't she make it clear to you?"

"I... uh... look, I guess."

"You're here because you need to be trained, and I'm going to train you."

"Wait, just...."

"We talked about it," Bea interrupted, "And believe me a lot of thought has gone into this. The training manuals agree that sometimes it's better to delegate the first phase of training to someone not in the relationship, to give the slave a proper frame of reference without all the relationship baggage. Someone who can put the slave through his paces without feeling obligated to him."

Bea had never talked over him like this, and her sudden change of demeanour left him floundering. Like Lotte, Bea seemed to be reading from some downloaded slave training script, like it was the gospel of female domination, which unsettled him. Also, that same new, cold attitude was there again, like the chill that had been between them all afternoon at work.

"Is this about what I said in the break room?" he blurted.

Instantly, he wished he could have taken it back, as he saw Bea's expression harden. Now, he'd conflated both things, bringing another pain point into the conversation. That had been stupid.

"I'd like to address that, yes."

Her tone cooled noticeably, her arms folded tightly across her chest. In her activewear tights and her baggy top, Bea's bristling demeanour was almost cute. But, her eyes were hard marbles, boring into him. He had the uneasy feeling that this wasn't the Bea he knew standing in front of him, the woman who could make him laugh with just a silly expression on her face. This was the other Bea, the woman who had plotted his enslavement with his wife for months. The woman in front of him was someone he'd never met before, he thought uneasily.

"You made me feel like shit, Heck. It's not my fault that Claire picked me over you to take her job. I know you'd have been able to do it with your hands tied behind your back. But, I'm in the seat now. I get that you're disappointed, but I thought at least you'd be happy it was me instead of Richard or anyone else. I thought you'd be able to look past that and see how big a deal it was for me."

"It was a big deal for me too. Like you just said, I know the job inside out."

"I know you do Heck, which is why I'm going to need you by my side, so I don't screw up."

The idea that not only had Bea taken his job, but that she wanted him to babysit her as she did it triggered the resentment again, and in that split second, he made a mistake.

"So, you want me to submit to you at work too?"

The anger flashed in Bea's eyes.

"I want to know you support me," she snapped, "Aside from what happens between us in private. I'm not going to have you kneeling on the floor in my office, though technically the contract gives me that right, I just need to know you're there for me."

Something happened in Hector's brain, a combination of factors coalescing in that instant. The very first moment he'd ever seen her, that night in the bar with her taller, black-haired friend who would eventually become his wife, he'd felt an instant attraction. Lotte had made all the running, eclipsing Bea, but there had always been that thing between them.

Bea could be cute and playful, her pretty face lighting up in a smile that could make his day. When she'd fallen into a relationship with Brent, Hector had tried extremely hard to like him, but he'd failed. It hadn't all been because of Brent's offhand manner, or the way he'd start to lord it over Bea when they'd gone for evenings out together, maybe surfacing in public what went on in private between them. No, it had also been something else, something he'd barely even admitted to himself: jealousy.

Hector had enjoyed having Bea as the third wheel in their relationship, someone to confide in, someone who always seemed to be interested in doing the things that Lotte didn't want to do. He'd been so flattered when she'd looked up at him, vulnerable, tear-stained, waiting to be kissed and told it was all going to be alright. He had been so tempted. Here she was now, one messy divorce later, the third wheel again. But, things had changed irrevocably between them. That brief moment in time, he could have given in, kissed her, undressed her and made her his, and Bea wouldn't have resisted. He'd held her in his arms and teetered on the brink of the unforgiveable.

Now, seeing her angry, her petite body bristling at his words, her lovely brown eyes flashing dangerously, the way her exercise tights showed off her trim, shapely legs, it stirred something inside him again. Despite his best intentions, he began to harden under the trenchcoat as she glared at him in silence. But it wasn't the promise of her lips anymore. No, it was the degrading idea of his best friend calling him into her office and forcing him to kneel for her that was getting him hard. He no longer had any rights to expect anything from her; that door had closed for good and he'd never have the chance again.

Technically, she had the right to do anything to him that Lotte could. It had been put there in black and white in the contract, and all three of them had signed. He imagined her ordering him to crawl on his hands and knees under her desk in the middle of the work day, hitching up her skirt to reveal her bare crotch, her hand wrapping around the back of his head as she pressed his lips to her pussy, the taboo thrill of contact with the body that he'd been watching all those years.

She could command him to service her, and he would have to lap at her slit, waiting for permission to go further, to penetrate her with his tongue, to seek out her depths, waiting to be ordered to make her cum. He would obey without question. He would bring Bea to the crest of a shattering orgasm right there at work if she commanded him to. His cock had become painfully rigid just thinking about being made use of like that, as her personal in-office sex toy.

"Of course I'm there for you," he rasped, bending forwards slightly to avoid his manhood poking the front of his coat.

"You don't seem convinced."

He needed to get the thought of her naked crotch out of his head. He needed his hard-on to subside before the inevitable command came to strip off his coat. The embarrassment of revealing his erection in front of her would be more than he could stand. He needed to concentrate on their conversation. Bea was still talking to him like an equal, and he had no idea how long this window of opportunity would last. He needed answers.

"Can I ask you something, Bea?"

"I guess. I don't have to answer you though. You don't have any right to know."

"I get that. Look, firstly, how long have you two been planning this?"

Bea's stance changed, the bristling energy fading as she considered the question.

"Since your birthday. I asked Lotte what you'd like for a present and she came out with it."

Hector forced his expression to remain calm. His birthday was nearly eight months ago. They'd been discussing his enslavement for all that time, and he'd never seen it coming.

"So, it was her idea? How did it start?"

"Yeah, Lotte started it all. She shared some of the stories you'd sent her, that you'd found, about female domination. I stayed up half the night afterwards, reading. I couldn't get my head around it."

"Uh, she sent you the stories?" Hector asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking and giving himself away.

The stories had been wild fantasies, written by people who imagined florid, sensual relationships full of deep submission, humiliation and endless, earthshaking orgasms. To think of Bea curled up on her own in bed avidly reading through them stunned him.

"What did you think?" he managed to say.

"I was shocked. The things that the wives did, what their husbands allowed them to do, I hadn't ever imagined it. Then Lotte would send me another story, and I'd read that. She said she had someone sending them to her, can you imagine that? It was unbelievable."

"In what way, that people would do those things?"

"Yes. No, I mean, yeah, that, but also, that it was, uh... that it was what you were into. I know you Heck, at least I thought I did, and then Lotte's showing me this new side of you. I would never in a million years have thought that you wanted to be... you know."

"A slave."

"Yeah. Until last night, when I walked in and there was the contract, and there was your signature. I couldn't believe that you'd actually go through with it."

"How did you feel?"

Bea didn't answer, just shrugging, but it was enough to tell Hector everything. It had taken Hector's resourceful, smart wife eight months to take Hector's secret little fantasies of submission and turn them into an overpowering yearning to become her slave, planting the seeds in his naturally submissive nature and letting them grow. But, through the drip-feeding of the female domination stories to Bea, Lotte had been doing something else too. She had been grooming Bea to become her partner in crime, going from blithe naivety about the world of female sexual control to the point where Lotte had sucked her in entirely, making Bea want to participate as much as Lotte had conditioned her husband to.

The moment last night where Hector had been bent over the countertop, sobbing and aching, his backside on fire, and Lotte had handed Bea the cane to administer her own two strokes had been the moment Lotte had been building up to for months. In a single minute, she had sealed her husband's position as her obedient plaything, bearing whatever disgrace Lotte meted out to him, but also binding Bea into the life as well, completing her journey from friend to accomplice to dominatrix.